


walls too close to move, air too thin to breathe

by bluejayblueskies



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Character Study, Gen, M/M, Panic Attacks, Spoilers for MAG194, episode coda, it's a bit of a grey area between them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejayblueskies/pseuds/bluejayblueskies
Summary: Reflections on loss and regret, recorded in situ.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70





	walls too close to move, air too thin to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is a coda to MAG194 - "Parting," so by default, it has major spoilers for that episode. Take heed of that, and if you haven't listened/don't want spoilers, I recommend not reading!
> 
> cw: anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of addiction, mild self-harm

The floor of the tunnel is hard beneath Jon as he sits, trying and failing to stop the hummingbird-fast beating of his heart in his chest. His head is stuffy, made so by the tunnels and by the tendrils of panic lacing through him that pulse to the tune of  _ Martin, Martin, Martin. _

He’d wanted to apologize. He’d- he’d just needed some air, a place to clear his head, just some  _ time, _ goddamnit, and now Martin’s  _ gone. _

_ And it’s all my fault. _

Jon takes in a deep, shaking breath and tries to steady his hands against the cold stone floor beneath him. He doesn’t succeed.

An image comes to him, unbidden, different than the fear that’s constantly pressing at the edges of his mind but just as insistent, so much so that Jon couldn’t dispel it even if he tried. Books set against a desk, smelling of musty earth and curling fog, the man behind them a shaking, scared thing that makes hate and pity weigh heavily on Jon’s chest. Cigarette smoke curling around his fingers and down his throat, a desperate attempt to soothe fraying nerves and to push away the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. Crimson red splashed across yellowing paper, smelling of iron and salt and fear.

Jon puts his head between his knees and tries to remember how to breathe.

_ Just had to get some air. Something to take the edge off. A quick break, just a quick break, and then I’d go back and apologize and everything would be fine. _

He’s just traded one addiction for another, hasn’t he. Soothing the itching of his soul with fear instead of nicotine, and now Martin is  _ gone, _ and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever—

Jon’s bitten-off gasp echoes throughout the tunnel, and he clamps a hand over his mouth quickly. Melanie and Georgie are talking to the others, answering questions. It wouldn’t do to bother them.

(They won’t leave with him. He understands this; they have their own responsibilities, their own problems, their own place in this world. He just wishes the thought of being alone out there, among the fear, didn’t ache at him, like an open wound in his chest. He also wishes he didn’t miss it.)

It doesn’t stop the thought from repeating over and over and over again in his mind, a broken record skipping over the same section of disjointed lyrics, a displaced melody. 

What if he never sees Martin again? What if- if that was it? An argument, a stupid,  _ stupid _ argument, Jon should have stayed, he should have been able to face the issue and work through it with his  _ boyfriend, _ the person he loves most in this world, if he wasn’t so  _ goddamned _ stubborn this never would have happened and his last words to Martin wouldn’t be ones that left a bitter taste on his tongue, he didn’t—

He didn’t even get to tell Martin that he loves him.

_ No. _ Jon digs his fingernails into his palms until they sting, until his skin is throbbing with the pressure. This- this is different. This isn’t  _ like _ last time. Last time, Jon ran.  _ Last _ time, Leitner had been dead, and Martin wasn’t— _ isn’t _ —he isn’t dead. He can’t be—Celia saw them leave, so he- he has to be fine.

(What if he left Jon? What if he decided that he’d finally had enough and just—)

Jon swallows sharply and pushes those thoughts deep, deep within himself until they’re drowned out by the thrumming of his own pulse. No. If- if Martin  _ did _ leave willingly, then he had a reason. And Jon just- just has to  _ find _ him, and then he can figure  _ out _ the reason, and everything will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

(Why does it feel like a lie?)

Jon sits and stares at the wall and tries not to think of anything at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> catch me crying about jonathan sims and jmart ;__;
> 
> comments and kudos make my day! if you liked what you read, let me know 💛
> 
> find me on tumblr [@bluejayblueskies](https://bluejayblueskies.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [the tumblr post for this fic!](https://bluejayblueskies.tumblr.com/post/642841675162681344/mag194-parting-coda)


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